Something I Need
by nlizzette7
Summary: "But most times it takes just one person, who is truly afraid to show what they feel, getting an opportunity they never thought possible." Chuck gets the chance of a lifetime when a freak accident sends him back in time to fix things with Blair. CB. One-shot. Written for anonymous on Tumblr.


Written for the one-shot prompt by anonymous on Tumblr: "Write Chuck and Blair going back in time to change the course of their relationship." Sorry it took me forever to put this up, but it took me a while to figure out how to write this. I hope you enjoy it!

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**Something I Need**

_I had a dream the other night, about how we only get one life._

_Woke me up right after two, stayed awake and stared at you. _

_So I wouldn't lose my mind._

Blair walked away like she always had, and Chuck let her go like he knew he must – on the arm of a prince, in a dream that cast shadows upon broken kings and fake empires. She didn't look back as Louis whisked her up the stairs, back into her flawless, newfound charade. And he was glad that she didn't. The remnants of his heart might have burned to ashes had he seen those glistening eyes mourning their love again. The rain poured outside, but he felt nothing as he walked into the night, his suit crumpled in the crook of his arm. People passed him in a hurry, couples giggled under umbrellas, families piled into cabs. But Chuck's destination had run away from him. He only existed. If he could call it that much.

He walked through the city to avoid his limo, to avoid that night after Victrola, to avoid Blair's lace negligee abandoned on the leather bench as hands met curves and broken pieces learned how to fit. But it was no use. Blair haunted the entire city, which was why the rest of the world was his route of escape. The lights at Tiffany's flickered off, the last of the tourists trickled off of the MET's steps, and a young girl bearing a headband gave him a strange look when he stared her down from across the street. Chuck swallowed, his throat drying as he ducked under the cover of a weeping willow on the west end of Central Park. He held his breath and drowned in Blair. Only Blair.

Maybe then he could die on his own terms.

Lightening burst through the sky, and Chuck clawed at his own chest, his vision going black. He would sell his soul if he still had one - just for a chance to go back. For another second on the Empire State Building, for a chance to choose the girl who gave him everything over a shell of a building, a shell of a man. For one less drink on the night Blair told him she was engaged, for ridding Jenny Humphrey, Eva, Raina Thorpe from his past…pushing the pawns aside to make way for his queen. For a chance to make it to that helipad and pull Blair into his arms before she fled to Tuscany on her own.

To tell her that he loved her when he knew he did.

But if Chuck was really being honest with himself, if he really had the chance to go back, it would be to a time long before the rise and fall of Chuck and Blair. Before junior year, before Victrola, before his heart stunted and his life wasted away. If he could really go back, it would be to the moment he first laid eyes on Blair Waldorf. To the moment he knew he could never completely have her.

It was then that thunder crackled through the sky, rain soaking his suit, pain soaking his bones. He let out a ragged gasp, jerking forward onto the cement. His hands were bloodied, his back ached, and all around him he heard words, he heard memories slipping through the air.

_I will always love you. I need you to let go. You need to let go. You're mine, Blair. If two people are meant to be together, they'll find their way back. I've never hated anyone more. It wouldn't be my world without you in it. Don't say anything to me ever again. All I ever did was love you. I will always be your family. You carry me. I love you, too. Well, that's just too bad. Three words, eight letters. Say them, and I'm yours._

_Are you sure?_

Every mistake, every regret, every broken promise faded to dust as Chuck jerked in pain, fighting to grab a hold of himself. And then it all stopped. The world was quiet, and he opened his eyes to yellow walls, a closing elevator, the foyer of a penthouse he knew very well. Chuck gasped, looking down to find a different suit on him, a red scarf around his neck.

"Mister Chuck?" The Russian voice broke into his thoughts, the burly maid waving a hand in front of him. Dorota looked different. The skin around her eyes was smooth, unaffected still by years of working for the Waldorfs. And she was…_taller _than him. Chuck glanced down at his own hands, stubbier fingers, shorter legs. He caught his reflection in the hall mirror, eyed the messy-haired young boy in front of him.

He was eleven years old.

What the _fuck_?

"Mister Chuck, I take coat now," Dorota went on, shrugging the suit jacket from Chuck's shoulders, pointing to the door across the hall. "Miss Blair's play date is through big doors."

"We're nearly twelve," Chuck deadpanned. "It's not a play date." He said the words exactly as he had all of those years ago, when Blair Waldorf had invited the entire middle school class to her pre-September soiree to size up her subjects and established her status as queen. How was he here? And…young again? Was he dreaming? Was he dead? Of course his own ring of hell would be to watch Blair fall heedlessly in love with Nate all over again. Chuck shook his head. Unless…unless things took a different turn this time around.

"You're late."

Chuck's head snapped up, his eyes finding a tiny version of Blair Waldorf, her face makeupless and perfect, her hair twirled up into a bun atop her head. It had been so long since he had seen her like this, before her reign, before she even knew who he was. "I told the entire class to be here at three o'clock sharp." Her lips popped on the word, her arms crossing over her chest. God, she was adorable.

"Sorry," Chuck shrugged.

"And you are…"

"I'm Chuck Bass," he said, the signature phrase sounding funny in his pre-pubescent voice. He cocked an eyebrow as she gave him a once-over.

"Well, _Bass_," Blair snapped. "You obviously know who I am."

Chuck smirked. "Obviously."

"Are you coming inside, or should we see how much more of my time you can waste out here?" Blair's tone was airy, her eyes sparkling with dominance. He knew what happened next, how this story went. He and Blair would walk into that party, and Nate Archibald would arrive a half hour later with floppy hair and breathless apologies. There would be stars in Blair's eyes, a flush in her cheeks as she introduced herself to his best friend. The dream of becoming Mrs. Archibald would be knocked next to her list of life goals, and Chuck Bass would be nothing more than an insolent friend of a friend that travelled in her social circle.

Chuck acted thoughtlessly and desperately as he took a step forward, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the elevators once Dorota was out of sight. Blair yanked her arm back in protest, but Chuck held firm, pulling her into the elevator and pressing for the ground floor.

"What are you _doing_?" Blair spat. "Get off of me."

"Look, Waldorf," Chuck said, exasperated. "I'm sorry. There's something I need to do. There's something I need to show you."

"I don't even _know _you, creep! This is kidnapping. I can't just leave my party – "

"Blair, please," Chuck rasped, forgetting where they were, how old they were supposed to be. He reached up to hold her rosy, cherub cheeks in his hands, forcing her to look at him. Blair frowned, her face smushed under his hold. "It's not going to kill you to come with me, I promise. You'll still be queen, and I'll get you back to your throne before the afternoon is over."

Blair pouted, shoving his hands away. "_Fine_. But just so you know, I have the FBI on speed dial. Mess with me, and I'll ruin you, Chuck Bass."

Chuck grinned, leading her out of the building by her lower back. "I'm well-aware of that."

Five minutes later, an annoyed Blair and a nervous Chuck stood in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, staring at the sprawling gray steps before them. Blair tapped her foot on the cement, shivering against the cold breeze that warned of the coming autumn. Chuck cursed himself for leaving his jacket back at her penthouse. He wanted to pull her to his side as he'd done so many times before, but that would probably earn him a sharp slap across the face.

"You want me to sit down on _those _steps," Blair stated, her nose crinkling in disgust.

"Yes."

"With you."

"Yes."

"What is it, Bass?" Blair asked, tucking her skirt underneath her as she gingerly sat on the fifth step up. "Because before today, I didn't even know who you were…Do you have some psycho, stalker crush on me?"

Chuck laughed. "Yeah, something like that."

"You're strange," Blair said, narrowing her eyes.

In front of them, a group of Constance girls passed them by, chattering away on cell phones and flicking their hair over their shoulders. Blair clasped her hands on her lap, her eyes full of longing as she stared on. Chuck watched her, a small smile on his lips. "That's going to be you one day," he chimed in, snapping her back to attention.

Blair rolled her eyes. "What? You can see the future now, too?"

"I'm Chuck Bass," he laughed. "I don't limit myself to time barriers." Blair raised her eyebrows, shooting him a look of disbelief. He met her eyes with lost ones of his own, trying another approach. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Audrey Hepburn?" Sure, it was an easy way into her heart – not exactly the noble way of finagling his way into her life. But it was effective.

"Really?" Blair flushed, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "She's really beautiful."

"_You _are really beautiful," Chuck corrected. A rosy blush remained on Blair's cheeks as he leaned in, catching a whiff of her sweet shampoo. Just as she allowed herself to smile at him, a group of chattering tourists broke into their moment, bearing pounds of fast food as they crowded onto the steps around Chuck and Blair.

"_Peasants_," they spat at the same time. They looked up at each other in surprise before breaking into a fit of laughter, the joy feeling strange in Chuck's chest as Blair's face lit up. They both steadied themselves before relaxing. Blair toyed with a lock of her hair as she stared up at him through long lashes.

"I suppose I should get you back to your party now," Chuck said softly, getting up from the step. Blair hesitated for a moment, her features crinkling as she stared up at him. He offered his arm to her, and she took it, stepping down beside him. Chuck turned to head back in the direction of her building, but she resisted, holding on to his arms.

"I mean, you've already _ruined _the party by ridding them of my presence," Blair sighed with faux annoyance. She fought the smile on her lips as she went on. "I don't see any point in going back now."

"Right," Chuck coughed. "And where do you suggest we go?"

Blair smiled, bowing her head. "You have a limo, don't you?"

Chuck's heart lifted, his lips parting at the opportunity. But before he could say yes, the sharp pain he'd felt from the lightening struck him again, forcing him away from the moment. In front of him, Blair disappeared, as did the museum, the rest of the city. A reel of memories forced their way past him, just as they had the last time. But these were different, these were from a life he had never lived, with a girl that he'd never lost.

_Chuck, I don't like Nate. I like you. I don't see why we have to put labels on things… Chuck Bartholomew Bass, if you don't ask me to be your girlfriend right now – Blair, you know that you're my girlfriend. You're a pig, Bass. But you love me anyway. You two are like the Bradgelina of the Upper East Side. Spotted: King C and Queen B stirring up trouble in the barroom of the Sheperds' wedding. With couples like these, who needs love of their own? Chuck, my father left us…Serena is gone, I – Baby, it's okay. I'm here. I love you, Waldorf._

Chuck's eyes snapped open as the stream of memories faded away. He fully expected to wake up back in the park, or even strapped to an IV at Mount Sinai. It had to have all been some twisted dream, a freak accident, the aftermath of a shattered Bass. But as he glanced around him, then down at the clothes he was wearing, where he was sitting – he realized that his launch into the future had stopped too short.

He was sixteen years old. And it was the day before his junior year.

Chuck coughed as Kati and Isabel writhed beside him, tipsily giggling to each other as the low chime of text message alerts sounded across the room. All around him, teenagers checked their phones, mouths dropping at what he was sure was the latest Gossip Girl blast.

"Oh my God," Kati yelped, waving her phone in the air. "You'll never believe what's on Gossip Girl." Chuck glanced up with interest, straightening himself out as the two girls leaned over him.

"Someone saw Serena getting off the train at Grand Central," Isabel finished, her eyes wide with glee at the oncoming scandal. They looked at Chuck, waiting for his snarky reaction, but he had none. His heart stopped, just as it had when he was transported to Blair's middle school party. The only thing harder than introducing himself to Blair all over again would be watching her feeble excuse of a relationship with Nate, witnessing her paw all over her best friend in an attempt to pull him away from Serena. Chuck reached for his collar, tugging it away from his throat. But just as he was about to make a break for it, a light voice rang in his ears, a girl appearing in front of him.

"Hands off," Blair snapped to Kati and Isabel, yanking Chuck up from the sofa. She reached down and slid her hand into his, casting a scolding glare at her two minions. Chuck swallowed as he took her in, the hot teenaged Blair that he'd seduced when he was young. She wore a prim black bow in her hair, a form-fitting dress in noir, lace stockings that wrapped around her thighs. When he reached her face, she was smirking at him, her lips curled to meet her dimples.

"See something you like, Bass?" Blair whispered, squeezing his hand.

"I…" This wasn't right. Why wasn't she off trying to consummate her relationship with Nate? He knew how this memory was supposed to go. And it didn't involve Blair Waldorf holding his hand in front of their entire junior class. He glanced around, but everyone seemed unaffected by the two. There were no hushed whispers, no pathetic social climbers snapping pictures for Gossip Girl.

"Come on," Blair whispered, tugging him through the crowd of parents and students. He followed dumbly, holding onto her hand with some semblance of normality. He watched her curls bounce along her back, a light saunter in her step. But before they could reach the door at the far end of the room, they were interrupted by a cold set of blue eyes, a stiff man with a tumbler of vodka in his hands.

"Dad," Chuck coughed, swaying on his feet. His father…he'd died two years ago. And now he was standing right in front of him, that eternally disapproving frown permanently etched into his features.

"Hi, Bart," Blair chirped, squeezing Chuck's hand in warning. Chuck frowned at the two of them. Since when did Blair regard his father at all? What sort of twisted version of the past _was_ this?

"Blair," Bart nodded, leaning in when Blair gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you. I do hope that you've been keeping my son in shape. God knows that he'd drop out of school and booze his days away if he could." At this, Chuck rolled his eyes at his father. Some things never changed.

"He's been on his best behavior," Blair said coolly. "Thanks to my…distinctive methods." Blair cast Chuck a teasing smile before turning back to Bart. "Now if you'll excuse us…I need to steal your son away for a moment." Chuck glanced at his father once more as Bart offered a stiff nod and waved the two of them off, his eyes already set on a blonde woman across the room. _Lily van der Woodsen. _Blair pushed him into the bedroom, locking the door behind her before she pounced. Chuck staggered back as she took hold of his collar, pulling him in for a long kiss. In another world…in the _real _world, he'd had sex with Blair hours before she'd gone off with Louis. But this Blair was eager, empty of any regret as she playfully tugged his lip between her teeth.

"God," Blair breathed, pushing his suit jacket from his shoulders. "I can't believe the B-listers they allowed into this party. It's like there isn't any exclusivity anymore." She sighed, pouting her lips as she untucked his dress shirt. "I've been waiting to be alone with you for hours. Kiss me."

Chuck held her waist away, steadying himself before her lips could meet his again. "Blair, what…what are you doing?"

"I'm trying," Blair frowned, her lips descending onto his neck. "To kiss my boyfriend."


End file.
